


Trail

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Anal Fingering, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Games, Unhealthy Relationships, Voluntary Captivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17190161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: The slow path is sometimes the most efficient one.





	Trail

prided himself in maintaining his collection, in keeping each and every treasure in utterly pristine condition, and this one was no different. The wreck of Akechi Mitsuhide, or what had once been him, anyways – he was on his hands and knees, quivering like a taut bowstring, his muscles straining with the effort that it took to even hold his body up.

Reaching out, Matsunaga rested a gloved hand on Mitsuhide’s back, right in between his shoulder blades, and slowly drew his fingertips downwards, exploring every bump, every bone and hill and valley of the spine that had become so prominent over the past month alone. He’d not been eating – but he’d not been doing much of anything else, either. This was the challenge of maintenance. Mitsuhide was stubborn – he seemed very intent on dying and chasing after Oda Nobunaga once more, and as the proud collector that he was, Hisahide simply could not let that happen.

“Don’t,” Mitsuhide whispered, and as usual, Matsunaga paid no mind. There was value in punishment indeed.

“Do you still believe, Akechi MItsuhide,” he whispered, fingers now reaching the small of Mitsuhide’s back, “that you belong to Lord Nobunaga?” 

He didn’t wait for an answer and he didn’t need to. Yes, yes he did still belong to Oda Nobunaga, he always had and he always would and there was nothing on this planet that would change that once and for all. He could collar him, he could own him – but Mitsuhide would never belong to him. Which was exactly what made him the perfect challenge.

Right there, where his spine curved at the base, was the evidence that gave Matsunaga a strange sense of pride, the pearly white drops that continued down into the cleft and then over the insides of his thighs. _Good boy._ Mitsuhide hadn’t moved, even as it continued to drip down his legs, even as Matsunaga, now once again fully clothed, slipped a thumb inside of him and pressed down gently, but firmly, stretching him open again and admiring how easily he gaped. 

“Hhn-!”

Mitsuhide shivered a little and lurched forward, stopped by Matsunaga’s hand on his shoulder and he very nearly wept. Oh god he wanted this oh god it was shameful no Nobunaga-kou forgive me I’m sorry, this man was claiming him inside out and perhaps it was what he deserved, after his betrayal and his subsequent failure. He wasn’t worthy to belong to Nobunaga-kou, even if that was all he could offer.

“Can’t,” he whispered as he felt that finger delve deeper, another and then another slipping in beside it until he’d lost count, until he’d dropped from his hands to his elbows, forehead pressed onto the floor. Matsunaga withdrew his fingers, but only to gather the sticky fluid on his skin that had dripped out and _pushing_ it back in. Mitsuhide sobbed – half out of pleasure and half out of the humiliation that came from taking this pleasure. Was it so wrong of him, now that Matsunaga had taken him for himself, wholly and entirely? Wasn’t this what he had begged him for – punishment for his crimes? 

Never had he thought that the punishment might have meant he would no longer belong to his Lord. Not even in his worst nightmares had he imagined that. Which was why it was the perfect retribution.

“Hush now,” Matsunaga purred, “you can, Akechi Mitsuhide. You can.” He could. And it broke him. He rocked his hips back against Matsunaga’s fingers, pushing his face against the inside of his elbow as if that would somehow muffle the humiliating sounds coming out of him now, a mixture of crying and laughing and moaning all at once. Too good too good it was awful. He wanted to die. He wanted to join his Lord, and Matsunaga would never let him – it was what he deserved.

“You do not have to trouble yourself,” came the whispering, “with thoughts of him any longer.”

Mitsuhide sobbed, low and deep and pitiful in his throat.

“You belong to me now.” 

Yes he did, beyond a doubt.


End file.
